Supposed To Be Me
by thatcaliber
Summary: Dean found Sam in bed that morning, surprised that he was awake before his little brother. When he walked into Sammy's room and saw him sleeping he decided to let him rest. Sam was sick and he needed it. But two hours later when Sammy still hadn't woken up, Dean went back to check on him. WARNING: major character death


Dean found Sam in bed that morning, surprised that he was awake before his little brother. When he walked into Sammy's room and saw him sleeping he decided to let him rest. Sam was sick and he needed it. But two hours later when Sammy still hadn't woken up, Dean went back to check on him.

"Hey, lazy ass, we've got work to do," he called from the doorway.

Sam didn't answer. In fact, he was in the same position as he had been two hours before.

Dean's heart started to beat a little harder in his chest, but he called out again, "Sammy? Are you gonna wake up?"

No answer. Not even a twitch.

Dean walked over slowly. His was gait steady, but there was a tremble in his lower lip that he couldn't figure out how to control.

He sat down on the bed next to Sammy, who had his back to him. He reached out and put his hand gently on Sam's shoulder. "Hey, buddy, wake up."

Sam didn't respond so Dean shook him.

Sam didn't respond so Dean called his name again.  
Sam didn't respond so Dean pushed him flat on his back and shook both of his shoulders as hard as he could.

Sam didn't even open his eyes.

At that point Dean was crying. He wasn't sure when he started crying, but it must have been a while ago because the top of his shirt was wet. He also wasn't sure when he stopped being able to hear much of anything, but he felt like there was cotton shoved right up in his ears. The only things he could hear were white noise and his own breathing.

"Sammy?" he asked again for good measure. The sound seemed very far away. Sammy seemed very far away.

He pulled his baby brother's head into his lap and stroked his hair. Dean's tears were falling on Sammy's cheeks now and the tremble was only getting worse because now it seemed to have infected his entire body. He could feel it in his lower back, radiating out and causing all of his muscles to strain at once.

"Hey buddy, you gotta wake up," he said and his voice cracked. He cleared his throat and licked his lips. "Don't do this to me Sammy, don't you do this to me."

Sam's mouth was open and Dean stared at it as though if he willed it hard enough Sam would suddenly gasp and wake up and everything would be okay. Just a little scare, nothing to be too worried about.

Dean reached down and pulled Sam's hand into his. It was cold and Dean was burning up. He rubbed his thumb hard up and down Sam's palm, hoping to transfer a little heat. He also needed to do something repetitive so that he could steady himself and then maybe Sam would wake up. Maybe if Dean were just a little stronger, a little more stable, Sam would be okay. He needed Sam to be okay and Sam could be okay if Dean looked okay. Dean could carry Sam. Sam had to know that Dean could carry him. That Dean could get him through this. That Dean was strong because if Dean was strong he could protect Sammy. Nothing bad could happen to Sammy while he was around, right?

Dean's exhale was a stutter and a cough. He lifted the hand that wasn't holding Sam's to his face and wiped his eyes and under his nose. His whole face was so wet. Sam's face was wet too. He reached down and wiped the tears off Sam's face.

He was quiet for a while. If Sam wasn't looking at him he wouldn't even know that Dean was crying, and Sam definitely wasn't looking at him. Dean was looking at Sam though. His Sammy.

"Why do you gotta leave me like this? We just got this place Sam. You didn't even get to read a tenth of the books. I know you loved the books. And how are we gonna finish these trials? How are we gonna put those black-eyed bastards back where they belong? How am I supposed to do this on my own?"

A sob hitched in Dean's throat so he swallowed, hoping to force it back down. He knew that this was it. There was probably no way Sam could come back after this. They'd both outstayed their welcomes as far as everyone else was convinced anyway. What were the odds that they'd get another chance? That someone would somehow bring Sammy back to him again? Dean would try, oh would he try, but a part of him knew that this was it.

"Why did you have to do this Sam? It was supposed to be me. I was gonna do it Sam. I was gonna do it and you were going to have a normal life, just like you always wanted. I was hoping I'd even get to have it with you."

Dean was quiet for a long time after that. He looked at Sam's face, remembering it before it was so dark and sunken in. He remembered how his eyes seemed to change colors. Sometimes they seemed a blue with a little green. Sometimes they were brown. Sometimes they were hazel. It was like his eyes had been a supernatural creature in their own right. They sparkled when he was happy. They would crinkle up when Sammy would smile. God Sammy had a beautiful smile. It was so full of life. He had those sharp little canines and his teeth were so white. Even when they were on the road for days at a time Sammy would find a way to brush them at least a few times a day.

And Dean would tease him about his hair, but it was so soft. He would have been sad to see it go, despite what he said. Dean ran his fingers through it, remembering how it would float around his face like a halo when they would cruise down the highway with the windows down. Sam really loved driving with the windows down. He would always have one arm halfway out the window, feeling the air between his fingers. He would stare outside with a little half smile on his face, admiring the scenery. He was good about appreciating the small and beautiful things in life.

Dean started to tell Sam stories. He asked him if he remembered when they were little and Dad had let them get out and play in that river on the side of the highway, or the time at Bobby's where Bobby was trying to teach them poker and Sam fell asleep at the table. He told him about his time with Lisa because he knew Sammy would like those stories. He told him he was sorry for all the times they fought and all the times that Dean made him feel bad. "You were a good kid Sammy. You always tried so hard to do the best thing. I'm sorry I didn't always treat you very nice. You deserved better than me Sam. You deserved a whole lot better."

When Castiel returned later that evening he found Dean in Sam's bed with Sam's head in his lap. He was silent, staring at Sam's face and slowly stroking his hair. Castiel walked over and kneeled next to Dean, putting his hand softly on Dean's knee. They sat in silence like that for a very long time.


End file.
